


Fucking Hollywood

by JessJesstheBest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aromantic Dean Winchester, Bi!Dean, Everything Sam says is lifted straight from rants I have so excuse him, Fluff, Human AU, I mean obviously Dean is bi, John is dead, M/M, Sam's at Stanford, aro!Dean, beta'd by people I do not deserve, but he's actually explicitly aro in this so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessJesstheBest/pseuds/JessJesstheBest
Summary: “Okay…” he started, aware that the only way out of this conversation was through. “So I admit, I don’t know a whole lot about,” he gestured vaguely at Sam. “That. But me, personally, I have a hard time telling the difference between romantic and platonic love.”“So like aromanticism.”“No, what?” Dean glanced at Sam who was looking at him weirdly. “I don’t know. But one of the only ways I know how to confirm the difference is with sex.”Or the boys have a discussion about media theory and Dean learns a new word.





	Fucking Hollywood

“It’s just so frustrating!” Sam threw up his hands, the  breath of his explosive  sigh blowing his bangs around.

Dean just nodded non-committedly. Sam had been going on about this for the last twenty minutes.

“I mean, representation is important. Everyone knows that. Studies and stuff, right? So if we all know this, why is it still so hard to find content without sex in it?!”

Dean grunted. Sam waved a hand at him as if it had been a grunt of agreement.

This would be better if Dean had somewhere to go, but it was his own fault for offering to drive his brother back to school after his visit. He could have easily given the kid money for a bus but, no, Dean — being the amazing older brother he was — had  offered to drive Sam back to Stanford.

And now he was trapped in his own car, listening to Sam bitch about sex in the media. Again.

“I’m not even talking, like, explicit HBO sex. But just this  _ idea _ that sex is always the endgame and the thing that’s the most important of all things. When a character has sex for the first time it’s a Big Deal and like, why? Narratively? For what reason? Why does it matter in movies if someone’s a virgin?”

“Well, you know Hollywood, Sammy,” Dean reasoned, doing his best to diffuse the situation. “It’s like Hooters. Just there to do one thing.”

Sam snorted. “What? Titillate men?”

“Okay, A) You’re men. And two I meant make money. Sex sells, Sammy. I hate to say it but it’s true.”

Sam groaned. “Okay,  _ maybe _ , but media also helps define culture. If we continue in this cycle where sex is the most valued commodity then how are we supposed to move past it?”

Dean sighed, unsure how to respond to that.

Sam had gone to college and come back gay. Or, rather, ‘queer’. Dean wasn’t totally sure what that meant except that, according to Sam, ‘gay’ and ‘queer’ didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to fuck dudes. Actually, in Sam’s case, he was gay in a way that meant he just didn’t want to fuck at all. Or he only wanted to fuck people he also wanted to marry. Something to do with Demi Moore? Dean still wasn’t clear on the details.

Whatever Sam’s sexual status, he had also come back from college with a vendetta against society’s obsession with sex. Which, objectively, Dean could get behind. But as a card-carrying, porn watching, one-night-stand having red blooded American, Dean couldn’t invest any personal devotion to.

“It’s not even just Hollywood! Fan created content has historically been a refuge for marginalized people to create a space in the universes they love for people who are like them. Like Kirk and Spock in Star Trek.”

“Are you writing a thesis? What the fuck?”

“But even in fan-created spaces it’s like all they care about is whether or not the characters are boning,” Sam said, disgusted. “Like, that’s not what their relationship is about. Kirk and Spock aren’t compelling because they wanna bone. They’re compelling because they’re, like, accidentally the greatest love story ever told.”

Dean sighed again, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“Okay…” he started, aware that the only way out of this conversation was through. “So I admit, I don’t know a whole lot about,” he gestured vaguely at Sam. “That. But me, personally, I have a hard time telling the difference between romantic and platonic love.”

“So like aromanticism.”

“No, what?” Dean glanced at Sam who was looking at him weirdly. “I don’t know. But one of the only ways I know how to confirm the difference is with sex.”

Sam was shaking his head before Dean had even finished. “But that’s not how that works. You don’t need sex to prove it’s love. That’s what I’ve been talking about!” Sam slumped dramatically in his seat, throwing his head back, before sitting straight again. “The difference between romantic and platonic love is there without sex. They feel different. They just do. As an asexual person, I know this better than anyone.”

Sam was pretty sure ‘asexual’ wasn’t the word Sam had used before but he didn’t really understand it anyway and didn’t want to ask.

“Okay…”

“You can’t tell the difference between romantic and platonic love?” Sam asked, his focus now entirely on Dean.

_ Shit _ . Dean squirmed. “No, not really.”

“So you’re aromantic?”

“I don’t know, man.”

“No, no, stop looking like that.” Dean made an attempt to stop grimacing. “No pressure or anything, it’s just that that is, definitionally, what aromanticism is. Not being able to distinguish a difference between romantic and platonic love. Because you don’t really feel the first one.”

Dean was definitely grimacing again.

He looked down at his arm when he felt Sam lay a hand on his bicep. “Thank you for trusting me with this moment.”

Dean shook him off, scoffing. “Shut up, man. Whatever. You know how I feel about labels.”

Sam took his hand back, biting back a smile. “Yeah, I know. But it’s good to have a word for it. Helps other people understand where you’re coming from. Helps you understand yourself.”

“I think I have a pretty good understanding of myself.”

Sam just snorted, not bothering to further respond to that, but then, blissfully, changed the subject.

  
  


Dean hated himself for bringing it up but it didn’t stop him from asking. “Hey, Cas, you ever hear of aromanticism?”

It was Thursday which meant it was Roadhouse night. There wasn’t any real reason they’d chosen Thursday for their weekly bar meetup, it had just been the only night they had free early on. Further down the road, they had begun cancelling plans to make it to the bar on Thursday, and now Thursday was firmly bar night. The bar of choice: The Roadhouse.

Cas blinked over at him over his large pint of whatever shitty IPA he’d chosen that day. “From my understanding of Greek prefixes I can presume it means to be without romance.”

Dean snorted, taking a sip of his own (proper, dark) beer before nodding. It figured Cas could guess what it meant without being told. He was smart as fuck.

“Eh, kinda,” he continued, tracing patterns in the water droplets on his glass. “I think it means to be without romantic love. Romantic attraction?” He shrugged, eyes in his beer. “Sam explained it better.”

Cas nodded back, smiling softly. “It was lovely to see him. He’s grown up so much.”

Dean grinned, ducking his head.

It was a little embarrassing how soft he let himself get around Cas. They’d been friends for four years, meeting in Cas’s Sophomore year of college when he needed to interview Dean for his college paper. Dean had been working as a mechanic at the time. He was still working as a mechanic, actually, but Cas, as an actual reporter person, interviewed people far more interesting than Dean.

Cas had been there for John’s death. For Sam’s high school graduation. Sam going off to school. Cas had seen Dean in way more emotionally compromised positions. Dean let himself be soft around Cas.

It didn’t mean he’d let it last longer than he had to, though.

“Yeah. That kid picked up all kinds of wild shit in college. You know he’s gay now, right?”

Cas rolled his eyes, a touch of annoyance furrowing his eyebrow. “You really shouldn’t casually out your brother, Dean.” Dean rolled his eyes back. “But yes, I saw it on Facebook. He posted about it.”

“Well then I didn’t out him!” Dean waved his hand as if to say ‘there you go’. “And, besides, I couldn’t get the words right if I wanted to. I still don’t remember what he actually said he was.”

“Demisexual, heteroromantic,” Cas responded automatically. He blinked and then corrected himself. “Or… aromantic? Is that why you brought it up?”

Dean shook his head, looking into his beer again. “Nah, Sam’s not that. That’s what he says I am.”

A horrible pause of horrible silence Dean stared into his beer.

“Are you?” Cas asked, gently.

Dean looked up. Cas appeared nothing but softly interested.

Dean shrugged, all shoulders, no eye-contact. “Nah. Maybe. I don’t know about labels, man.”

Cas nodded, consideringly. Dean watched him take a sip of his beer. He spent a lot of time staring at Cas’s neck this way.

Cas tipped his head as he put his glass back on the bar. “You don’t have to talk about it. But it may be worth looking up so you can potentially learn more about yourself.”

Again with the learning about yourself thing.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t think I need to do that. I think I’m fine.”

Cas seemed to deflate a little, the sag of his shoulders making Dean cautiously curious.

“Of course,” he said, taking another long pull from his glass. “Forgive me, I suppose I hoped — ”

He cut himself off, looking sternly into the dregs of his own beer.

Dean watched him. His blue eyes were washed out in the yellow light from the bar but the dark shadows defining his profile made him just as striking. The clench of his jaw. The furrow of his eyebrows. The tension in his shoulders.

Dean downed his beer.

He put the glass gently on the bar, pushing both his and Cas’s away from them before turning and putting his hand on Cas’s shoulder.

“You wanna go on a date with me, Cas?”

Cas looked up at him, sharply, eyes wide. “What?”

Dean suddenly wished he had beer to nervously swig.  _ Well, no going back now _ .

“If I don’t feel romantic attraction or whatever – if I’m not just waiting for the right girl and I’m never gonna – then I wanna be with my best friend. And that’s you.”

Cas’s eyes were still wide and it looked like he was biting his lip.

“My best friend who I’m still very much attracted to!” Dean rushed to correct, realizing that Cas might be afraid that this was just him settling. “Jesus  _ fuck _ , am I attracted to you. I never did anything about it because I was probably straight, ya know? But obviously I’m not so...” He shrugged.

Cas was still just staring at him.

Dean’s hand twitched. “You gonna just leave me hangin, man? I don’t really know wh–”

Cas surged forward, hands coming up to cup Dean’s jaw as he kissed him quiet.

Dean had never allowed himself space to imagine this kiss. But he’s sure he never would have been able to capture it anyway. So easy. So nice.

It was the kind of kiss where if Dean would ever have had butterflies, he’s sure they would have been hammering away in his stomach at that moment.

_ Guess it’s official, then. I’m aromantic _ .

Dean could feel Cas smile as he kissed him.

_ I’m fine with that _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a conversation I had with my brother while I drove him back to his dorm tonight. The role of me is played by Sam, obviously.
> 
>  
> 
> [Rebloggable version](http://saywhatjessie.tumblr.com/post/179031533705/fucking-hollywood)


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